Back and stuff.

Well. I'm still jetlaggy, still don't want to work, still have so much to do. Still have a portrait or two of what I expected everything to be like that needs to be dissolved. I refuse to be the empty-headed, narcissistic reprobate that I used to be. I embrace the new and probably broken me.

Yeah, I'm tired, maybe it doesn't all make sense, but whatever. Life here is familiar, comfortable, in so many ways easy, that I wonder if I need to go somewhere else so I can really suffer, really grow. Life here isn't going to be a cake-walk, isn't going to be like it was last year, isn't... sometimes I want to go somewhere else so I don't have to deal with all of the things I thought I had worked out.

And once again, I find myself in the same place that I just can't seem to escape from, the place where all I do is sit in thought as the plot of my days commences and I'm left with fences. I'm trying to decide if I should shave or not, and I see this deep metaphor in this decision that thirty seconds later, I'm kicking myself for thinking was anything special. I'm walking around in this trip that feels like it's not the same that I thought I should take part in. I find myself back in the same situations, back in the same patterns, back in the same old same old. And I've only been here two days. Jetlag, I hate you.

I keep making these excuses for why I feel so useless, but there is another long shadow on my days, another failed tiding for my eyes. It feels like I'm just another one of those people that I always disparaged and despised, that I didn't want to have much to do with because of how they acted. And guess what, yeah, now I'm doing it. It's like a dream that fades away, that I would have been better than this. But there is a reminder that this isn't one of those things that I can just throw to the side since I've lost that ideal of perfection. Instead, I have to strive to be better, have to strive not to let the burial of misconceptions be the burial of potential. Unavoidable, every day a new day to die, and a new one awaits. In the distance I see a vision of perfection, say hello to the end. I pursue my faith with a new lack of remorse. A quick eclipse.

So, I guess the jet lag is going to wear off one of these days and I will be fine again. I guess I'll discover, maybe on my own, what the color is. Maybe I'll have some realization that I don't have to really be in this cycle, and I'll get out of it. Someday, I will be prepared. Someday, I will be late, and I'll be where I can get this through.